Fledgling
by agentpippin
Summary: Our favorite Slytherin helps Ginny realize she has potential of her own to fulfill. DG. Chap. 7 actually up this time.
1. Part 1: Conversation

Fledgling, Chapter One - Conversation

Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish it was. Must move on.

xXxXxXxXx

Ginny picked at her food morosely, trying not to show her tear-stained face to the rest of the Gryffindor table. Harry was staring off, lost in thought, green eyes turned inwards, contemplating something. Ginny loved that look; it was the cutest thing she'd ever seen, and she'd tried to let him know it. 

Damn those stupid Valentine's gnomes. Damn Professor Lockhart and his stupid Valentine's Day ideas. Even though it had been four years since the preening Professor's ruse had been uncovered and Lockhart himself disgraced, Dumbledore had decided it might be a good idea this year to revive it. She didn't blame Dumbledore - the rest of the school had had a wonderful fun time, delivering Valentines all day. But Ginny had been hiding her face in embarrassment for the whole day.

Why hadn't she learned her lesson in her first year? If only she hadn't sent Harry another  singing valentine. Then Malfoy might not be sitting there, silently smirking at her childish attempt.

Malfoy. Ginny intensely hated the very name. How dare he, she seethed inwardly. How dare he make fun of her in front of everybody? Ginny felt a fresh wave of tears threatening and tried desperatelyto contain herself. She hiccoughed slightly and felt a single drop drip down her face. Oh, no, she thought miserably, and quickly got up to go to the bathroom, see if she couldn't wash her face and compose herself. She rushed past the Slytherin table where Draco Malfoy was sitting. In her hurry, she stumbled on a corner of her too-large robes. 

"Watch it, Weasley." Draco's voice, sneering. "You nearly stepped on my foot there."

Ginny turned to face him, all thought of composure forgotten as she beheld the Slytherin boy's smug face. He looked silently back and winced inwardly at the fury in her brown eyes. 

"Shut... up," she hissed, bringing her face inches from Draco's. "Just shut up." 

Draco's eyebrows shot up his forehead. He felt a slight stirring in the pit of his stomach which was entirely unfamiliar and rather unpleasant. "Fine then," he shot back, rather lamely. "A bit edgy, are we? Potter didn't like your valentine?"

Ginny's eyes blazed and she drew back her arm as if to smack Malfoy across the face. He recoiled hastily, knocking over a bowl or two in his hurry. Ginny paused. The fluttering in Draco's stomach grew ever more intense. Draco couldn't identify the feeling but was beginning to resent it. 

All of a sudden, Ginny smiled - just a quick quirk at the corner of her mouth. "Nice addition to your robes, Malfoy," she told him, deadly serious, but instead of anger, amusement now danced acrossher face. "Searching for a new look? A bit of spaghetti sauce here, a meatball there?"

Draco was completely floored. "What?" he asked blankly. Ginny grinned wickedly and pointed to his arm. Malfoy had managed to put his elbow in the pasta in his attempt to distance himself from the angry Weasley girl. 

The rest of Slytherin table snickered. Draco groaned, lifting his arm and inspecting it. "Great," he muttered. Ginny was obviously trying not to laugh. 

Draco glanced up at her, glaring. "It's not funny, Ginny."

Ginny burst out laughing. Draco was all the more perplexed. "What now?" he asked. "Have I upset the pumpkin juice?" 

Ginny covered her mouth with her hand and attempted to stop giggling. "You, saying my name like that." The last giggles subsided and she grinned at him. "You NEVER call me Ginny." 

Draco realized what he'd done. "So I did," he said slowly. "Well." He glanced up at her, frowning slightly. "Don't take it personally."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Sure... *Draco*," she said, smirking. 

Draco rolled his eyes. "Ha ha." The gnawing sensation in his stomach was now identifiable: it was guilt. Guilt? Draco asked himself. From a Malfoy?

It doesn't matter, you idiot. Malfoy or not, you were cruel, a voice nagged at him in the back of his brain.

Of course it matters, Malfoys ARE cruel, Draco told himself sternly. But despite his resolute mindset, he knew he was questioning himself.

How dare you, his conscience said furiously. How dare you hurt this poor girl's feelings. What has she personally ever done to you?

"Look," Draco began slowly. "I, uh... I didn't mean to... well..."

Ginny watched the Slytherin boy. He looked - was it possible? - rather uncomfortable. Finally, he looked up at her. Ginny saw strands of fine silver hair falling lightly over grey eyes. She got past the eternal block he seemed to have, just for a second - and saw a pained expression on his face. 

"I'm sorry," Draco said quietly. 

xXxXxXxXx

Gotta love those Malfoys.

I know, I know, stupid way to end a chapter. Don't go away; I'll be right back.


	2. Part 2: Realization

Fledgling, Chapter Two: Realization

Draco hits on an uncomfortable subject for Ginny. They talk. Draco needs some aspirin.

xXx

"I'm sorry," Draco said quietly.

Ginny stared. "Did you just apologise to me?"

Draco's slightly uncomfortable expression devolved into one of annoyance. "Yes, I did. Would you like me to take it back?"

Ginny just shook her head, incredulous. "You APOLOGISED. Do the wonders never cease?"

Draco narrowed his eyes at the the dumbstruck redhead. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're a Slytherin, Malfoy, Slytherins never apologize."

"What part of 'I'm sorry' do you not understand?"

Ginny sighed. "Okay, thank you. But-" she lowered her voice to a whisper, "why did you do that?" 

Draco felt the beginnings of a headache. "Do what?"

"Apologise! Good lord, Malfoy, talking to you is like having a conversation with a brick wall."

Draco took a deep breath. "Because... I don't know. Because you looked all sad and dejected sitting over there while your precious Potter chatted with Weasley-" he glanced at Ginny, "I mean, your brother, and Granger." Ginny turned to watch Harry, Ron and Hermione talking animatedly, laughing and eating. "Don't you ever get tired of it?"

She turned back to the Slytherin table. "Of their talking? Why should I?"

Draco's gaze matched hers. She felt as though he was looking past her face, into her mind. "Who do YOU talk to?"

"Well, at the moment, you," Ginny replied, unsure of what he meant. Draco definitely felt a headache coming on, but pressed his point further.

"Exactly. You have to come and talk to the Slytherins because those three won't talk to you?"

Ginny felt as though someone had stuck a needle through her heart - just a tiny twinge, but it hurt. "Malfoy, they talk to me."

"Do they talk to you like they talk to each other? What's Potter's favorite color? Does Granger have any hobbies? Has Weasley gotten rid of his crush on Blaise yet?" Draco indicated a girl sitting at the other end of the table, with orange hair and a pursed smile. 

Ginny started. "Malfoy!"

Draco spread his hands. "See, you didn't know about that, did you? Listen, Weasley, you don't have to talk to me if you don't want to... but I wouldn't mind. You're an okay kid - for a Gryffindor."

With that, Draco got up and left, black cloak swirling behind him. Ginny stared after him, trying to make sense of their conversation. His remarks echoed in her mind, taunting. "You have to come and talk to the Slytherins because those three won't talk to you?" "Do they talk to you like they talk to each other?" 

Ginny tried to find some way to answer the questions without admitting a painful truth. They never did talk to her. She had 

to be content with Fred and George's rambunctious antics, because she didn't have anyone she could really talk to. 

Tears started to form in her eyes, and she firmly pushed them back. Not again, she resolved. Never again. She looked over at the Gryffindors, several of whom were looking back at her with puzzled expressions. But three people in particular hadn't even noticed she was standing with the Slytherins.

Draco's last words surfaced. "You're an okay kid - for a Gryffindor."

Ginny hurried out of the Great Hall after Draco.

xXx

Poor Ginny! I promise in later chapters we'll have more Confident!Ginny and definitely more SexGod!Draco. R/R plz.


	3. Part 3: Initiation

*sings* Where oh where has my little muse gone, oh where oh where can she be? Fluffy the plot bunny has come out of   
hibernation. More than just mindlessness now. Honest.  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Never will. Surprised?  
  
xXxXxXxXx  
  
Ginny hurried out of the Great Hall after Draco.  
  
"Malfoy - wait -" she yelled, jogging after him. She gathered up a handful of her robes and took off after the retreating   
Slytherin, running out of the Entrance Hall and onto the grounds. "Malfoy!"  
  
Draco turned. His face gave away nothing, but amusement played across his grey eyes. "You bellowed?"  
  
Ginny skidded to a halt. "Don't leave," she said without thinking.  
  
Draco's eyebrows shot up his forehead. "I wasn't planning to, but if you insist..." he grinned.   
  
The petite redhead girl before him looked thoroughly put out. "Malfoy, why?"  
  
Draco sighed loudly. "Why what?"  
  
"Why are you talking to me now?" she asked stubbornly.  
  
Draco grinned. "Maybe I'm just desperate for conversation."   
  
Ginny stamped her foot. "You are NOT FUNNY!" Her hands were on her hips and she glared at Draco with every ounce of   
ferocity she possessed. "Cut the jokes for a while, all right?"  
  
Draco clutched his hands to his heart and grimaced in mock horror. "Why, ma belle Virginia, I'm afraid I cannot do that   
which you command, for I am possessed of a devilishy good-looking and abundantly amusing soul."   
  
"MALFOY!" Ginny yelled.  
  
Draco lowered his hands. "What?" he asked, looking scandalised. "My inner muse is just dying to make itself heard."   
  
Ginny marched forwards until she was no less than an inch from Draco's face. He tried not to move.   
  
"Bite me," Ginny growled through clenched teeth. "Come on Malfoy, what in the world possessed you to talk to me?"   
  
Draco looked annoyed. "I told you, my devilishy good-looking and abundantly amusing-"  
  
SMACK. The back of Ginny's hand landed on Draco's cheek with stunning force. Draco staggered backwards, an angry white   
patch forming on his face. "Bloody hell, Weasley," he gasped breathlessly.   
  
Ginny stood in front of him. "Talk to me, Malfoy."  
  
Draco regained a measure of composure and glared at her. "Well, I would, except you seem to have BROKEN MY JAW!" he snapped.   
He pressed a hand gingerly to the welt, now turning bright red, and winced. "Damn it, Weasley. Did you have to do that?"   
  
"You're talking, aren't you?"  
  
"Shut it," Draco muttered. Ginny smiled contentedly. "Now would you mind answering the question?"  
  
"What question? Yes, I am indeed talking," Draco affirmed.  
  
"Not that question. The other one."  
  
"Refresh my memory, would you? I think a piece of my brain got knocked loose when you hit me."  
  
Ginny enunciated each word very slowly and clearly. "Why - are - you - talking - to - me?"  
  
"Well, partly because I am still waiting for an apology."  
  
"Draco," Ginny threatened, raising her hand again.  
  
"All right, all right!" Draco scuttled backwards. "Because - because I like you. No, not like that," he added, exasperated,   
seeing the look on Ginny's face. "Nothing I'm saying is sounding right today."  
  
Ginny was having a rather odd day. This was Draco Malfoy? she kept asking herself. Malfoy, having a civilized conversation   
with her? Malfoy, calling her by her first name? Malfoy, NOT sniping at her when he had the chance and the breath?  
  
Draco was trying to find the words to break the now uncomfortable silence. He felt the twinge in his stomach again. What now?  
he growled inwardly, but he was fighting an answer that rose through his subconscious to plague him.   
  
You do like her. Yes, like that.  
  
Draco clenched his jaw and turned away from Ginny. Stop that, he told his subconscious, stop that right this minute.   
  
"Draco?" The Gryffindor girl came up behind him. He felt a small hand on his shoulder. "You okay?"  
  
"Yeah," he heard himself say. "I'm fine."  
  
He turned around slowly. "Look, Ginny, you have - how many brothers? Five?"  
  
"Six," she replied. "Malfoy, what-"  
  
"I never had any siblings," Draco interrupted. "It was always Malfoy's Heir this, Malfoy's Heir that. But I didn't want it."  
He looked down at his feet. "I didn't want any of it."  
  
"Draco, I'm not-"  
  
"Listen to me," he said firmly. "Even though I was an only child, I was still overshadowed. I was overshadowed by this huge   
responsibility and all my family's expectations. You-" he took Ginny's hand, "you don't have any of that, and yet you're   
still crouching in your brothers' shadows."  
  
Ginny felt her eyes stinging. Why must he be so right all the time? She started to speak, but he interrupted her once more.   
"Nobody else I know feels the same as I do. You're the only one I know who's not afraid to do something wild or different   
just to get somebody - anybody's - attention. You hate it, don't you?" he demanded. "You hate it when one of your brothers   
flashes his Prefect badge, or gets a laugh out of a crowd. You think you're the only one who goes unnoticed."  
  
Ginny swallowed past the lump in her throat. No more. She took a deep breath. "I don't need a spotlight on me, Draco. I don't   
want one." As she said it, she realized she was lying. She wanted to be noticed, to be admired, to be surrounded by friends   
as Harry could be whenever he felt so inclined. She wanted to measure up to her brothers. And, she realized, not just for   
herself. She wanted one certain person to notice her.  
  
Draco still had Ginny's hand. "You might not have wanted a spotlight, Weasley," he said softly, tilting her chin up to look   
her in the eye. "But it suits you."  
  
Then Draco's mouth was on hers, warm lips sliding over her own, sparks flying. Ginny closed her eyes and kissed him back,   
sliding her hands up his chest to lock behind his neck and pull him closer against her. Despite the February air, it seemed   
that they were standing in the middle of a raging bonfire, an explosion of color and lights and sound. Ginny pulled her hands  
up to trail through Draco's silvery hair, but he pulled away. "Mmph," he grunted, before losing contact with Ginny's mouth.   
Ginny was taken aback at the speed of the retreat. "Draco..." she started to murmur, before realizing Draco had his hands   
shoved in his pockets and was staring at something.  
  
"Hello, Granger," he said carefully.   
  
"Oh, my god - uh - Ginny?" Hermione stammered. "You're - that's - Ginny, are you all right?"   
  
Ginny glanced guiltily at Draco. "Um... fine," she replied, attempting a casual tone. "Why... do you ask?"  
  
Hermione's astonished stare switched from Ginny to Draco, then back to Ginny, then Draco again. "Malfoy, did you curse her?"   
she asked, tone melting from shocked to suspicious.  
  
Draco looked defiant. "You honestly think I'm that desperate?"  
  
"No," Hermione said. However, she considered the question, and opened her mouth as if to comment further. "He didn't," Ginny   
said hastily. "I'm - I'm fine." Hermione approached the pair cautiously, as if one of them were a bomb about to go off.   
When no fireworks ensued, she pressed something into Ginny's palm. "Harry wanted you to have this." She promptly backed off.  
"You watch yourself, Malfoy," she warned, before turning back to the Entrance Hall.   
  
Draco groaned. "Great. Now with the rumours." He sat down on a nearby bench and glanced sideways at Ginny. "So what did your   
own personal Valentine-delivering gnome send you?"  
  
Ginny sat down beside him, holding a piece of paper. Her eyes flickered over it. "Um... it's from Harry."  
  
"Yes, I gathered that when she said 'Harry wanted you to have this'."  
  
"I mean, this is actually from Harry."  
  
"What's it say?" Draco slid closer to her. He took the paper, filled with Harry Potter's wandering scrawl, and read.  
  
Ginny,  
I hope you're OK... Malfoy's little joke didn't seem to go over so well and I was worried about you. I just wanted you to   
know that I'm sorry about what happened. Lockhart was dumb to have something like this. Scratch that - Lockhart IS dumb. (I   
hope the teachers never ever find this. Burn it or something after you're done with it. On second thought, maybe they'd like   
to see it...)  
I hope we can be friends, I really do. I appreciated your Valentine, you know! (I get a lot less fan mail than you might   
think I would.) Hermione was asking about you too - we all love you. Talk to me sometime.  
Love,  
Harry  
  
"Well, if this isn't the biggest 'I-told-you-so' I ever had the opportunity to use," Draco grinned broadly. "See? Come on out  
of that shell of yours and you'll get it."  
  
"Draco?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Shut up."   
  
"Oh, fine, squash my momen-"  
  
LATER...  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"That was very nice."  
  
"Draco?"  
  
"Shutting up."  
  
xXxXxXxXx  
  
I'm not sure if I should continue this now!! I lurve writing D/G. Only your reviews will determine whether there will be   
some sort of a sequel. Hope you liked it! 


	4. Part I: Invitation

Okay, I guess Fledgling was popular enough for me to write more, and since Frockers obviously wants more *tries   
unsuccessfully to unhook Frocker's teeth from my shirt sleeve*, here it is. It's set in Draco's sixth year, Ginny's fifth.  
  
*Hey, looky! I changed their ages! Many apologies to Aurora Noctifer, and her sister. :)*  
  
Disclaimer: Do you really need to ask? If I owned it, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction.  
  
This story is for the most high Frockers. Will you let go of my sleeve now?  
  
xXxXxXxXx  
  
Draco was sprawled on one of the overstuffed armchairs that adorned the Gryffindor common room. He glanced around, noting   
for the hundredth time how different it was from his own common room, with its sleek pale green couches and silver tassels,   
no fireplace, and cold cement floors. The Gryffindors relaxed in typical Gryffindor fashion - way too much leisure time and   
space. There was a fire roaring in the cosy fireplace, a thick carpet covering the floor, and several tables and chairs as   
well as the scarlet armchairs. Draco picked idly at the plush armchair, seemingly bored, but tensed for the slightest noise.  
  
The shush of silk on cement alerted him to someone coming down the spiral staircase - the girls' staircase, he determined,   
pricking his ears. He sat very still.  
  
"You know Ron will try to strangle you the second he sees you in here," someone said. Draco could hear the smile in her   
voice.  
  
"Well, if it isn't Sleeping Beauty," he drawled, sitting up to peer over the back of the armchair. "Took you long enough.   
Did you have to read Patil and Brown bedtime stories?"   
  
"Shut up, Draco," Ginny said amiably, flopping down in an armchair across from the Slytherin boy.  
  
"Ooh, I'm hurt," he said, frowning. "One might almost think you didn't want me in here."  
  
"What if I don't?" Ginny shot back.  
  
"Well then I guess I'll just leave, seeing as I'm not wanted here," he huffed.   
  
Ginny waited. Draco didn't move.  
  
"Fine, if you insist, I'll stay," he sighed. Ginny smiled. "I win," she told him.  
  
"And another tally mark for today," Draco announced, mimicking a pencil and making a check mark on an imaginary scoreboard.   
  
"Yikes, you've been keeping track." Ginny flicked her wand at the table and a tray appeared, laden with mini-donuts and   
glasses of milk. She reached over and picked a coconut-covered donut from the pile. "Yech. I can never get that spell quite   
right." She grimaced and put the offending donut back.   
  
Draco picked it up and inspected it. "What's wrong with coconut?" he asked, popping it in his mouth and smirking. "I like   
coconut," he added, spraying coconut bits over the armchair.   
  
Ginny made a face. Draco grinned and took a glass of milk from the tray on the table, continuing to chew. "You know, they   
have a sweets store down at Hogsmeade."   
  
"Yeah - what's it called?"  
  
"Honeydukes," Draco said, finishing his donut.  
  
"Right," Ginny recalled. "With the Ice Mice, and the Pepper Imps?"   
  
"That's the one," Draco agreed.   
  
"Hmmm." Ginny toyed with her glass of milk.   
  
Draco glanced up at her. "What?"  
  
Ginny looked bemused. "What do you mean, what?"   
  
"You only say 'hmm' like that when you're planning something."   
  
"Do I really?" Ginny looked thoughtful. "Well, now that you mention it-"  
  
"May I also take this opportunity to say that it's usually something that will get either you or I expelled?" Draco   
interrupted hastily. Ginny smiled. "You don't say?"  
  
"I do say," he announced, leaning back in the armchair. "So what is it?"  
  
"When's the next Hogsmeade weekend?" Ginny asked.  
  
Draco blinked. "What? Hogsmeade? Next week, I think. Oh no, you don't," he warned, catching on. "I come down here at night   
because Potter and the Dream Team won't see me, you know that. I am not going to Hogsmeade with you. Your brother would kill   
me. Probably slowly and painfully," he added.  
  
Ginny grinned. "I wasn't thinking of you coming with me next week. Nice speech, though," she said, raising her glass.   
  
"What then?" Draco asked suspiciously.   
  
"I was thinking of you coming with me the day after tomorrow," Ginny told him.  
  
Draco raised an eyebrow. "I did mention that your ideas usually get us expelled, right?"  
  
Ginny sighed, exasperated. "Come on, Draco, it's Saturday. Everyone's here doing homework."  
  
"Exactly," Draco said very clearly, leaning forward. "You'd be missed. I'd be missed. They may be just Gryffindors, but they   
can put two and two together, Weasley."  
  
"Draco!" Ginny reached over and cuffed Draco around the head. "Cut the 'just Gryffindors', or I'll go Gryffindor on your   
Transfiguration homework."  
  
"Oww," Draco complained, clapping a hand to the back of his head. "You really like hitting me, don't you?"  
  
"Well?" Ginny asked. "Come on, Draco. Have some fun for once."  
  
"I'm already close to failing Transfiguration," he muttered.  
  
"So are you coming?"  
  
Draco paused. "Saturday, you say?"  
  
xXxXxXxXx  
  
Mwahaha! Ooh, Ginny's a bad bad girl. I wasn't sure if I should put this as a new story, but I will if you all like it   
enough. R/R please, I'm thinking of making this one longer than Fledgling, so I need feedback! 


	5. Part II: Execution

Fledgling, Chapter Five  
  
xXx  
  
"I can't believe you talked me into this."  
  
"Shut up, someone'll hear us."  
  
"I mean, I'm risking my sixth year education to go on some Hogsmeade visit because you couldn't wait for next weekend. Tell   
me, is that as ridiculously idiotic as it sounds to me?"  
  
"Even a Hogsmeade trip with me?"  
  
"What do you mean, 'even with you'? I'll be expelled!"  
  
"All right, that does it."  
  
"What?- Ouch! Dammit, was that absolutely necessary?"  
  
"Didn't I tell you to shut up?"  
  
"Probably. I wasn't listening. Okay, okay! OW!"  
  
Ginny stopped dead in the middle of the corridor and clamped a hand over Draco's mouth. "Okay, now I mean it when I say 'shut  
up'," she whispered almost inaudibly. "Flitwick." She nodded towards a classroom across the hall. Draco stood absolutely still,  
and heard Professor Flitwick inside, humming merrily to himself.   
  
Draco cursed. "We'll have to get past him. God knows how," he muttered under his breath, sharp gaze flicking from the   
classroom door to the Entrance Hall, just down the staircase in front of them. "The longer we wait here, the more chance there  
is that we'll be found, get threatened with being hung by our thumbs from the dungeon ceiling, make a huge scene with lots of   
crying and pleading, and then get hung from the ceiling anyways."  
  
"Well, how about you strip down, paint yourself purple, and dance in front of the classroom while I make a run for it?"   
Ginny proposed helpfully.  
  
"Possibly. Although then I'd be expelled for sure. Our original plan had about a ninety-nine-to-one chance that I would."  
  
"It's better than nothing," she shrugged.   
  
Draco sighed. "You just want to see me strip down."  
  
"Guilty as charged," Ginny grinned.  
  
"Okay, serious-time now." Draco peeked around the corner of the door, then swiftly withdrew as Flitwick's humming faltered   
slightly. "Suggestions, anybody?"  
  
Ginny raised her hands. "Don't look at me, you're the one who's supposed to be able to come up with Master Plans."  
  
"Give me a day or two and I might be able to. Right now, not so much," Draco told her.  
  
Just then, Flitwick's cheery tune stopped entirely. "Damn!" Draco spat as he hauled off towards an empty classroom, the   
professor's footsteps echoing in the large Charms room. Ginny was right behind him, dashing into the room just as Flitwick   
left the classroom. The two waited for his footsteps to recede down the hall.   
  
Ginny held her breath as Draco's scent tickled her nose, a spicy lime smell that always made her think of some sunny   
Carribean island way out in the tropics somewhere. Shaking herself mentally, she wondered why every time she was this close   
to him, her primary brain functions seemed to go dormant. We're damn close to getting caught sneaking off school grounds on a  
school day because *you* wanted to, she reminded herself, so *you* had better help Draco with that Master Plan.  
  
"Is he gone?" she breathed. Draco frowned slightly. "I think so..." Poking his head around the door, he motioned for her to   
follow him. "Come on."  
  
They stole out from the classroom. Draco's booted feet barely made any noise, while Ginny's sneakers occasionally squeaked on   
the newly-mopped marble floors. Draco winced at the sound, but kept going, Ginny close behind.   
  
They dashed for the door. In a whirl of red hair and black cloaks, they were both outside. "We made it," Ginny said, letting   
out a heavy sigh.   
  
Draco nodded at the snow-covered path before them. "Let's go, Weasley," he urged. "It'd be one hell of a kick in the head for   
us to both get out of our common rooms, through the whole castle and past Flitwick, and then get caught loitering around the   
gates." He held out his arm. "That's code for 'let's get moving', in case you were wondering," he added.  
  
Ginny slipped her arm inside his. "I wasn't," she told him, "but thanks anyways."  
  
They started their brisk walk through the snowy grounds, soft snowflakes falling like tiny crystals from the grey sky. A   
bleak winter sun shone through a gap in the clouds, making the white blanket covering the ground sparkle.   
  
At her domitory window, Hermione Granger watched the pair making their way towards Hogsmeade. 


	6. Part III: Retaliation

I owe another big one to Frockers, my ever-wise beta. Bloody hell, woman! Enough caffeine pills!  
  
xXxXxXxXx  
  
Music wafted through the crisp, cold air and reached Ginny's ears. She recognized it as a Christmas carol, but was too   
occupied with sight-seeing to identify it. Hogsmeade was certainly worth the while.  
  
There were shops lining the stone-cobbled street, roofs and doorframes piled with drifts of snow, displaying brightly colored   
clothes and fancy accessories on one side, carefully balanced stacks of books and sweets on the other. People filled the street,   
chatting excitedly, pointing at the large windows, bartering in loud voices and toting bags full of goods. The noise level   
was enough to give one a headache.  
  
Draco strolled along beside Ginny, tall enough to see over most of the crowd. A faint red had appeared on his high cheekbones,   
evidence of the biting cold in the air. His hair was ruffled by the wind, a silver halo above translucent skin. His black   
attire and silver-blond hair were in direct contrast to Ginny's fiery locks and golden cloak.  
  
Ginny nudged Draco in the ribs. "There's Honeydukes, and the Three Broomsticks," she said through chattering teeth.   
  
Draco grinned down at her, showing no effects of the uncomfortable temperature himself. "Cold?"  
  
Ginny nodded fervently. "Come on."  
  
They pushed past a couple of people arguing over a box of lizards, and entered the sweets shop with sighs of relief. "Wow,"   
Ginny exclaimed, shaking the snow out of her hair and taking a deep breath. "Look at all this stuff!"  
  
Draco examined a jar labeled Cockroach Clusters. "Mmm."  
  
"Check it out - Ice Mice, just like I told you," Ginny said with relish, wandering around the store. "Ooh - sugar quills!   
Stringmints... Candy Toads... Droobles Gum... Chocolate Frogs... I hope you brought money. Lots of it."  
  
"Oh yeah." Draco held up a drawstring bag and shook it, causing a loud jangling. "Do your worst, Weasley," he smirked.  
  
They spent the next fifteen minutes selecting random tasty-looking treats from the shelves and barrels throughout the store.   
When they had accumulated what seemed to Draco like enough sugar to keep the entire population of Hogwarts awake through final  
exams, they left the shop, Draco's money bag considerably lighter.   
  
"Where to next, oh wondrous leader?" Draco asked Ginny with a sweeping gesture towards the packed street.   
  
Ginny barely hesitated. "The Three Broomsticks!"  
  
The pub was crowded with bodies, human and otherwise. Wizards and witches mingled with goblins, hags, and gnomes. Ginny even   
thought she saw a ghost in the corner. Warmth pervaded the entire room, and pipe smoke drifted in the air above their heads.   
Her lungs filling with the smell of baking bread, whisky and human bodies, Ginny picked her way through the crowd to the   
counter, Draco trailing her.  
  
"Two Butterbeers, please," she said to the bartender, a slightly plump woman with an ever-present smile. The witch turned around   
at the sound of Ginny's voice.  
  
"All right, dear, there's still a couple of tables left at the back," she said kindly, giving Ginny a warm smile and winking at   
Draco. Bringing their drinks, she set the two glasses down on the counter and slid them towards Ginny. "There you   
are, love."   
  
"Thanks," said Ginny, and she followed close behind Draco to the back of the room, slipping into a large wooden chair beside   
the blond boy. "All right, now we've got about an hour and a half before dinner, so where do we want to go next?" Draco   
queried between sips of Butterbeer.   
  
"Hmmmm... what else is there to do here?"  
  
Draco snorted. "You name it."  
  
Ginny grinned. "I know."  
  
"What?" Draco asked.  
  
"You'll see," Ginny said airily.   
  
Draco rolled his eyes and took a swallow of Butterbeer. The little redhead was really rather adorable, blast her.  
  
Finishing their drinks, they wound their way back through the crowd. Draco tossed a handful of sickles down on the counter   
and the bartender swept them up with a nod to the boy.  
  
Ginny took a deep breath of sharp winter air. "Come on, Draco," she told her companion, "let's go!" She dashed off over the   
snow banks and disappeared in the white landscape.  
  
Draco shrugged and took off after her, plowing through the drifts of snow towards the Gryffindor girl. She laughed and   
dove behind a hill, spraying snow everywhere. Draco grinned and crept to the top of the hill, as quietly as possible, and   
peered over the edge.  
  
"Weasley?"  
  
"Ha!" A pair of hands shoved him from behind, toppling him over. Both Draco and Ginny rolled down the hill in a tangle of arms  
and legs and cloaks.   
  
Draco struggled out from under Ginny and managed to prop himself up on his elbows. "Evil girl," he muttered, unable to keep   
a smile off his face. He surreptitiously gathered a fistful of snow and when Ginny had looked away, he flung it into her hair.  
  
Ginny shrieked and threw a handful of snow at Draco. "Snow fight!" It caught him in the face and he sputtered, swallowing some   
of the fluffy substance. Ginny grinned and got to her feet, managing to 'accidentally' plant her foot in his ribs as she did.  
  
"Owww," Draco complained, climbing to his feet and kicking snow at Ginny. The girl smirked and grabbed another fistful of   
snow, stuffing it down the back of Draco's shirt.   
  
"Hey!" Draco gasped and did an odd sort of dance, tripping over a large snowdrift and ending up on his back in the snow.   
"Cold! COLD!"  
  
Laughing uncontrollably, Ginny threw herself onto the snowdrift beside Draco and sprinkled some snow onto his face. Draco   
shifted. "Ouch. I'm lying on something," he said suddenly. He rolled over off of a sharp stick poking out of the snowbank.  
"Damn," he muttered, grimacing. "I think I scratched my back."  
  
"Let's see-" Ginny tugged Draco's shirt up to reveal a long scratch, already tender-looking and swollen.   
  
"This isn't a striptease, Miss Weasley. Leave my clothing alone," Draco ordered, although without much conviction.   
  
"Shut up, Draco," Ginny said absently, poking at the scratch. "Ah - stop that, it tickles," Draco mumbled, fighting back   
laughter.   
  
She glanced up. "You're ticklish?"   
  
Draco realized his mistake. "Uh... just a little."  
  
Ginny grinned so deviously that Draco winced. "Somebody just shoot me now."  
  
"Don't worry, I'm not that cruel," Ginny reassured him.  
  
"Yes you are," Draco said immediately.  
  
Ginny said nothing. Draco hoped she wasn't plotting something. On second thought, it's probably a bad idea to assume she   
isn't plotting something, Draco thought. Bloody Gryffindors.  
  
xXx  
  
Back in the castle, Ginny and Draco sauntered along the corridors with as much aloofness as they could muster. //Draco doesn't   
particularly need to force it,// Ginny thought ruefully, //seeing as his default expression is 'bored'.// Draco's face, however,  
was white with cold, and the tip of his nose was red. Ginny supposed she looked rather the same, although it wouldn't matter so   
much to her as to him, with his normally pale complexion.  
  
As they reached the fork in the corridor that indicated the Slytherin's common room, Draco turned to Ginny. "See you around,   
Weasley," he muttered, and disappeared down the hall.   
  
"Bye," Ginny whispered after him, hurrying back to the Gryffindor tower. The weight of the packages in her coat pockets were   
comforting, and she crawled through the portrait hole in high spirits.   
  
The happiness didn't last long. She passed several tables with people sitting at them, playing cards or chess, or reading, as  
was Hermione's case. The older girl was sitting at a table beside Harry and Ron, the boys engaged in a chess match. As soon   
as Hermione spotted Ginny, the book was forgotten.   
  
Ginny stopped and watched, perplexed, as Hermione made her way decisively towards the redhead. Guilt fluttered in the pit of   
her stomach, and she attempted to be completely expressionless except for puzzled curiosity.   
  
"Hi, Hermione," she said as casually as she could. "What's up?"  
  
"Ginny, we need to talk." Hermione glanced around them and promptly pulled Ginny to a deserted table in a corner of the room.  
Ginny felt panicky. She prayed she wasn't going to be expelled, as she was sure Hermione knew about her and Draco's recent   
excursion.  
  
Hermione sat her down firmly in a chair and then sat down herself opposite Ginny. "I saw you and Draco going to Hogsmeade,"   
she began solemnly, and Ginny clenched her fists. She and Draco were as good as expelled.  
  
xXxXxXxXx  
  
If someone could help me out, I don't remember the name of the bartender in Hogsmeade. Help...?  
  
Keep that feedback coming! I am, in all seriousness, learning lots from you guys. Believe me, it helps. 


	7. Part IV: Discussion

Yes. Finally. Chapter 7. For real. Don't kill me. *cringes* I will be doing a lot more writing in the next couple of days, so... yeah. Here it is, and sorry for the delay! Props to Frockers, for being a patient person, and for her lovely beta-ing, as ever. *hugs*  
  
xXxXxXx  
  
"I saw you and Malfoy going to Hogsmeade," Hermione began solemnly, and Ginny clenched her fists. She and Draco were as good as expelled.  
  
"I know what you're thinking. You're thinking I'm probably going to snitch on you," Hermione added quietly, looking directly at the younger girl. "But I won't."  
  
Ginny stopped in the middle of opening her mouth to protest. "You're - I'm sorry, what?" she said, blinking hard.  
  
"I won't tell Ron," Hermione repeated. "But I do want to talk to you."   
  
"Talk away," Ginny said, hardly believing her luck. Have to warn Draco, she thought suddenly. He shouldn't say anything.  
  
"Well, first of all - " Hermione looked around at the nearly full common room, and sighed. "Let's go to the library. Nobody will be there, it's the first day we've had off in ages."   
  
They hurried through the halls, hardly meeting anybody, and slipped into the library with no trouble, winding through the bookshelves. As Hermione had predicted, there was barely anybody there except a few lone studiers. Hermione led Ginny to the back of the library and perched herself on the windowsill, looking at the redhead with a touch of McGonagall-like asperity. "Ginny, what on earth were you doing out there with Malfoy?" she asked, sternly but not unkindly.  
  
"Well... I just wanted to go to Hogsmeade," Ginny mumbled lamely, sinking into a chair. Hermione sighed. "Are you and Malfoy... you know, dating?"  
  
"Well, not exactly." Ginny searched for the words to describe her situation. "I mean, he's not the type to 'date' someone. It's just that ever since last Valentine's Day... you remember." Hermione looked like she might laugh, but contented herself with nodding. "After that, we started to talk. He's really not that bad a guy, Hermione, he really isn't. Not once you get to know him. Ron, especially, thinks he's just plain evil, but it's so easy to get that impression if you don't know how he sees things." Ginny was now leaning forward on the edge of her chair, talking animatedly. "He's hard-working and clever and funny, but that Draco is all tangled up in the traditionalist, aristocratic, pure-blooded, stubborn Draco. It's just how he lives and how he was brought up. His father was a big part of his 'education' before he came to Hogwarts."   
  
Ginny now didn't meet Hermione's eyes. "He believes pure-blood wizards are superior because that's how he's always seen the world. For him, it was always divided into pure-bloods and half-bloods. His family never associated with anyone who wasn't pure-blood. He says he knows that his father was mixed up, but it's still the way he was brought up, and he can't entirely change that."  
  
Hermione clucked her tongue, and Ginny shrugged apologetically. "I didn't say he was right. I think it's an old-fashioned, stupid way to look at people. But that's just what's ingrained in him."  
  
Ginny looked out the window, the thoughtful expression on her face thrown into sharp relief by the afternoon sun trickling through the stained glass. Her brown eyes were turned to violet by the scarlet of the Gryffindor crest, and her fiery hair was shaded a murky maroon by the green Slytherin serpent. She looked like a completely different girl. Hermione was very abruptly struck by the difference between the short, petrified-shy little girl that had gotten on the Hogwarts Express for the first time, and the woman sitting in front of her. "How things do change," Hermione thought idly.   
  
"Well," she said, bringing herself back to the matter at hand, "what are you going to do now?"  
  
Ginny looked wary. "Do I have to do something?"   
  
Hermione gave her a pointed look. "Forgive me for this, but you and Malfoy are not exactly a match made in heaven according to school tradition. A Gryffindor and a Slytherin? Don't get me wrong," she added hastily, seeing Ginny's indignant look. "Maybe you have something. I'm not one to judge. But I really think you ought to either stop seeing Malfoy, or tell..." Hermione paused. "Tell Ron. Tell Harry, maybe."  
  
"Why do people need to know? Is there some sort of contract to spending time with someone that I'm not aware of?" Ginny said, frowning.   
  
"No, but..." Hermione hesitated. "There is Ron to consider. And your parents. And Malfoy's parents, too, frankly. If they find out the wrong way..."   
  
"Damn." Ginny abruptly gave a deep sigh and nestled her chin in her hands. "I hadn't thought of that."   
  
"You never do," Hermione mused.  
  
Ginny looked sharply sideways at her. "What do you mean?"   
  
"Er... I don't really know," Hermione said, not looking at her. "I mean... when you spend time with someone..." She stopped, searching for the best way to put it. "You never think about how something looks unless you mean to," she said finally. "You and Malfoy are a perfect example. You think of each other highly, and there's... respect there. But to everybody else, it's a giant scandal, because you're breaching unspoken rules. But you didn't mean to. Do you understand what I mean?" she said hesitantly.  
  
Ginny watched her thoughtfully. "I think so. But if you're saying that I can't see Malfoy because - because we're different people..." She trailed off, and shook her head. "I don't see where school differences have the right to keep us from spending time together."   
  
"They don't. You're right," Hermione conceded. "But I'm just saying... think about it. Look through someone else's perspective, if you like." She looked Ginny in the eye, and the redhead faced her squarely. "Talk to Ron."  
  
"Fine. I'll talk to him," Ginny said after a moment. She pushed her chair back and stood up. "I should talk to Draco first, though." She hesitated, then looked at Hermione directly.  
  
"Thanks, Hermione," she said, smiling a little. "I appreciate it."  
  
"Sure," Hermione said, smiling back. Ginny was heading for the door when Hermione stopped her. "Ginny?"  
  
She turned around. "Yeah?"  
  
"Do you want me to maybe talk to Ron beforehand?" Hermione asked quietly.   
  
Ginny stood immobile for a moment. Then, slowly, a grateful smile appeared. "Sure."  
  
"I'll see you at dinner, then," Hermione said. Ginny turned and left.  
  
Hermione watched her until she turned a corner, then leaned back against the window and closed her eyes. 


End file.
